


Underneath it all

by devilinthechurch



Category: The Avengers - All Fandoms
Genre: M/M, omg the idea for this just gave me all the feels, so obv i had to write it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-11
Updated: 2012-04-11
Packaged: 2017-11-03 11:30:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,446
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/380919
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/devilinthechurch/pseuds/devilinthechurch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tony's reckless stunts land him in ICU. Of course after he gets out he ends up wishing he could still be unconscious on a hospital bed. Or does he?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Underneath it all

"Well hello and good morning to you all!"

Tony didn't get to hear or see much of anything after that because as soon as the words left his mouth, the clenched fist of a very notably angry Steve Rogers connected with- due to the size of it not only just a portion but- his whole face, knocking him onto the ground.

His brain being the genius brain that it was only communicated him one very precise, very accurate and most of all, vital piece of information:

"Ow."

In restrospect it had been his fault. Had it? No not really. Steve just liked to take things to heart. And worry about him. A lot. Of course he'd be worried to if Steve decided to test some new and un-tested Iron Man gear whilst fighting one of their most intense battles to date. And then the weapon backfired, causing him to crash into a building and be sent into ICU for a week.

Not that he'd ever tell him that

Apparently the kind Steve waited untill he was somewhat fully operational before knocking him out cold. So there was some consolation in that.

All this crossed Tony's head as he was lying on the agreeably cold tiled floor of his kitchen. Well, not really in that order or that coherently really. There were some mushy Steve thoughts in there too and some intelligent and totally not redundant communications about the quality of the floor and the intensity of the sunshine, which his brain kindly provided him with.

Having sort of regained some of his consciousness he got up, a little wobbly around the knees, mind you he had been in intensive care for up to a week before this. Steve was gone. Go figure. But apparently, the rest of the team were seated around the kitchen, mainly on the counters (behaving like responsible adults with good table manners of course), watching him with a glint of satisfaction in their eyes, the bastards.

"Gee, thanks for the help, I'll remember it." Tony said as he put his jaw back into position and accepted the cup of coffee handed to him by Natasha. 

Not at all pleased with this remark, Clint retorted, "Oh shut up Stark. We've been at the receiving end of the Cap's frustration while you were out cold. As far as I'm concerned you deserve it."

The rest added something more, but it didn't quite reach Tony. He heard some things about all of them being somewhat worried and how he was a total dickhead for having exposed himself to danger like that, but he didn't really hear it. Because something else was beggining to sink in deep into his brain. And he was processing it and turning it around a million times over, to see if he had heard right. "We've been at the receiving end of the Cap's frustration while you were out cold." Frustration? Steve? He understood that Steve might have been angry at his irresponsibility and expressing firendly concern, all that he could see. But the rest of the team were concerned as well and obviously hadn't taken it as bad as Steve. (Thank goodnes they hadn't, or Tony would have been black and blue by the end of the morning). The thought gave Tony a pleasant, warm sensation. One he didn't want to have in the midst of his companions, because, altough he had long gotten rid of the habbit, what if his senses betrayed him and he ended up blushing.  
That would not do. Time to retreat. 

"Well... bye."

And with that, he grabbed a packet of pop tarts from the counter, straight out of Bruce's hands. Touche, for not helping him up. And took off to the safety of his workshop. 

The Iron Man suit was in dire need of some repairs anyway.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Tony Stark knows a lot about a lot of things, one would say. Being a genius and all. One would almost expect it. But, if we narrow the field down a little, that sentence changes quite a bit. In fact, Tony Stark knows a lot about only two things. 

The first one is fixing things. And making them. He knows a lot about robots, tinkering with cars, creating AIs like Jarvis and making small inventions that embarass Pepper in meetings whenever he needs to get back at her or have some fun. Oh and he synthetizes a few elements every now and again. In short, his workshop is where he feels most at home and, more importantly where he goes to escape. From everything. And everyone. Everyone being Steve at the moment.

The second thing Tony Stark knows a lot about, is talking. Acting. Or faking it. Some critics would call it lying. Regardless of the term, Tony Stark can talk himself out of any situation. Well, almost any situation. But he's good at talking, really. His tongue runs smootly and his voice doesn't shake and he can control his nerves even when he's talking to someone that makes all his nerves stand on edge as if hit by an electric shock. Even then, he talks. And talks. And talks. And talks too much. And says too many things because when Tony's nervous and he talks, his already damaged brain-to-mouth filter gives out completely and he just says everything he shouldn't and few things he should and maybe he even throws a few insults in there for the count.

Okay, maybe he doesn't really know much about talking. At least not the good kind.

But there are some things Tony knows next to nothing about. Things like social interaction. Things like when to say 'no' and about what not to say, ever. Things like how to deal with problems. And how to apologize. Things like love.

Steve Rogers however, knows a lot about those couple of things. Which is why he is now standing at the door to the lab, knocking on the glass because, God bless him, he still doesn't know how to open it by himself. It's why he insists on talking about things with Tony.  
And it's why as soon as Tony sees him, he can't help but mutter "Fuck." under his breath before letting him in.

Let's get to talking then, shall we?

"Hi there Cap, I hope you're here to apologize about nearly busting my face open okay I gotta tell you I don't appreciate that in the slightest in fact it was pretty fucking rude of you i mean you could have just brought me some chocolates and said 'I'm glad you're alive Tony' not knock me out on the-"

"Tony...."

"-floor I mean hello but then why are you here now oh and have you got some food, any food, Pepper hasn't been around much lately and she hasn't brought me anything to eat oh mental note: Need to make that moving shaft that runs from my lab to the kitchen you know better yet, forget food, got any coffee because Jarvis won't give me any more he says i've had too much already which if you ask me is a load of bullshit how much could I have had I sure as hell wasn't counting but you know-"

"TONY!"

"- huh?"

Finally Tony shuts up. It really wasn't Steve's voice that did it though. It was more his bright blue eyes and the pained look in them that froze Tony on the spot.

"You can't keep doing that. It's irresponsible."

Tony sighed. So that's what it was about, oh okay like he hadn't seen this coming. Steve wanted to sort things out. Be all Captain-y for the sake of the team. Well too bad for him, because Tony really wasn't the type to do things that way.

"Tony, look at me."

"What Rogers?! Jesus, you sound like my fucking dad."

Steve winced at that. He always did whenever Tony spoke ill of his father, because he really hadn't known him in the way Tony had.

But he kept going, putting on his best Captain America 'I'm gonna sort this problem out in the most civil and polite manner and you will listen because I am Captain and I am responsible Tony Stark and you are not'- look that made Tony cringe on the inside and out.

"I want you to tell me-" still he hesitated because deep down he realized the implications of posing such a question, "- why you do these things. Please."

Suddenly, Tony didn't feel much like talking. He didn't feel like making amends with Steve anymore.   
I mean what the hell was he supposed to say?   
That he made bigger and better weapons so he could protect Steve because he was constantly afraid someone, somwhere was gonna find the bullet that would finally pierce his suit's super fabric?  
That he put himself in danger because he had a self-destructive personality that was before prominent in his private life, but has now transcended into his super hero life?  
That his mind was a clusterfuck of things and feelings and emotions he couldn't explain and the best way to escape them was to put himself into dangerous situations?  
Or maybe that he still felt guilty about all the horrible things he'd done prior to becoming Iron Man that he felt the need to keep punishing himself, to keep pushing the envelope, to see how long his luck would last?  
Was he supposed to lay out all these painfully true answers before the unsuspecting Captain America, who as far as he was concerned only thought Tony did this because he was, well, Tony? Irresponsible, adrenaline junkie Tony.

Absolutely not.

"I don't fucking know Steve! I'm not a goddamn psychiatrist so get off my case."

Those words seemed to punch Steve right in the gut. Right where Tony's words usually aimed for anyway.

Tony really wasn't too god at talking.

But right now, he didn't much care. To hell with everything. He turned around to continue fiddling with the suit, maybe Steve would take the hint and leave. Instead, he felt a strong hand on his shoulder. 

"Warm."

The Captain's hands were so warm.

And his touch was unbelievably soft. Very much unlike the one that had landed that punch this morning. Was it this morning? It could have been, or maybe a few mornings ago. 

It didn't matter because Tony's heart was racing. And when Steve ever-so-gently turned him around so they were facing each other, Tony's pressure was so high up he thought he was on the edge of having a heart attack. 

"I worry about you, Tony. So much."

And the words were so soft. They sounded so broken. Like the words of someone who had been sitting by his bedside all day and all of the night, crying into the bedsheets and clutching his hand, praying that he woke up. Praying he got better.

Tony didn't want to flatter himself of course. What were the odds of those words having been meant that way. But a glimer of hope shone in him nevertheless.

And then there were the eyes.

Steve's soft blue eyes that didn't even need words, Tony could see all of his concern, oh God it was like having a building pressed upon his chest. He wished it would have been. Because he felt he was loosing his composure and that all his feelings would come spewing out, like his words did so very often.

All the clusterfuck of feelings and emotions and now the cherry on top of the frustration cake: guilt. Did he actually feel genuine gulit?  
Guilt about what?  
'Oh maybe because your stupid stunts are causing Steve so much fucking pain and oh God oh God, he doesn't deserve it. Stark you idiot.'

And Tony couldn't bear it anymore because Steve's eyes were so warm and sad at the same time. His touch so soft and reassuring and he broke down. He closed the distance between them and hugged Steve. Hugged him and held him tight and cried.

Yes, Tony Stark had a heart. Apparently he had tear glands too and they were doing their best to prove their existence. 

As for Steve, he was as much taken aback at Tony's reaction as Tony was himself. But he hugged him back and stroked that beautiful dark hair while Tony let all his emotions out, all at once.

He felt Tony's tears dampen up his newly pressed shirt and his silent "I'm sorry Steve. I don't know. I'm sorry."

The truth was, no one ever really got to see the real Tony Stark. The man under the suit of armour and the genius, billionaire, playboy, philantropist mask.  
Under all of that, Tony Stark wasn't a big man at all. He was a little man, with too much on his plate and nothing to eat it with.   
But the mask worked for Tony pretty well and over the years he had successfully built up a wall that he didn't plan on tearing down. Nor allowing anyone to tear down. Least of all Steve.

And it was precisely Steve who had done that now.

And contrary to what Tony had been afraid of, Steve didn't run away. He didn't escape when he saw Tony wasn't the childish billionaire with a high alcohol tolerance. He didn't flee at the sight of all Tony's vulnerabilities and weaknesess. He just held him tightly. 

Because Steve Rogers didn't love Tony Stark for being a genius, billionaire, playboy or a philantropist. He didn't love him for his recklesness. He didn't love him for his irresponsibility.   
He didn't love him only for those things.  
He loved him, for who Tony Stark was, underneath all the layers of carefully constructed disguises.   
He loved the gentle, tender man, underneath all that.

And he only hoped Tony felt the same way when he cupped his chin in his hand and planted a gentle kiss onto his mouth.

A kiss which surprised Tony, because unlike what the general population of the planet Earth thought, he wasn't as confident when he was in love with someone. And he was.

A kiss which Tony deepened and to which Steve only responded.   
Soon they were leaning into each other, mouths and tongues fighting for domination, bodies moulding together.

And for the first time in a long time, all the weight was lifted off Tony's shoulders and his heart. And he thought,

"Everything's gonna be alright now."

And he was right. Everything. Would be alright. 

Because now he was no longer afraid. He had Steve and he loved him, and more importantly Steve loved him in return and it was all he could ever dare to ask for.


End file.
